Abigail's POV
I stand still on the staircase, watching the scene unfold in the foyer below. My heart beats a little faster, not just from the tension in the room, but because of the two figures standing there: Nathan, his usual arrogant smirk plastered across his face, and Luca, who’s standing a little taller, his expression sharp and intense.
There’s a subtle, undeniable tension between them, and I can feel the unease tightening in my chest.
Nathan’s voice rings out, cutting through the silence of the house.
“Don’t think you can just walk in here and make demands, Luca,” he sneers, the challenge in his tone clear.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
Luca stands his ground, his posture stiff with defiance, but his gaze doesn’t leave Nathan. His jaw is set, his lips pressed into a thin line.
